


help me turn a blind eye (days and nights we lost to weakness)

by Rhaenys (orphan_account)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, also lexa is very chivalrous, also this is a fuck you to JRat, battles take place, but gayer, clarke and lexa are smitten, it's like game of thrones, raven is raven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7979872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Rhaenys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Game of Thrones AU that no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> BEFORE ANYTHING I WANNA SAY THANKS TO fast-baby-turtle ON TUMBLR CUZ WITHOUT HER, THIS FIC WOULD NOT EXIST. GO DROP BY AND SAY HI TO HER AND TELL HER WHAT AN AMAZING ARTIST SHE IS!

That night was the coldest night in the entire history of the North, and things for Clarke of House Griffin were going south.

A rich, inexperienced southerner like her wouldn’t even last three days in the icy tundras. And during her journey to Winterfell she had heard many tales of wights with glowing eyes and an unquenchable thirst for blood, tales of people dropping dead in the snow, and even more stories meant to scare poorly-behaved children. But mere cock and bull stories could not break her resolve. Clarke Griffin needed to make it to Winterfell if she were to leave the posh lifestyle the houses in the south lead.

Clarke lowered the thick leather patch that covered her mouth. “How much further, Raven?” she shouted.

Raven, Clarke’s guide, turned to face her. “To hell if I know!” Raven shouted back, frustration evident in her tone. “We’d be dead in a few hours, anyway.”

Clarke tugged on her horse’s reins to stop it in its tracks. “What does that mean?”

Raven turned her horse to face Clarke. “Had you listened to me earlier, we wouldn’t be tired, cold and in desperate search for water that isn’t snow or ice!”

“Oh so now it’s my fault?”

“Damn right it is!”

“Well you didn’t pack any water when I told you to,” Clarke countered. “Plus, why would you want to drink water in this kind of weather, anyway?”

Raven jumped off her horse and sauntered to Clarke’s. “Because, princess, I’m thirsty.” Her tone was disdainful with a hint of smug, and Clarke could sense that she was up to no good.

“Raven, what ever you’re thinking don’t—“

“Boo!”

At the sudden sound, Clarke’s horse neighed and bucked, causing Clarke fall off her horse and face-plant into the snow. While she was struggling to stand, the horse ran off into the night.

Raven was too busy laughing at Clarke, she didn’t notice that Clarke was ready to tackle her. Clarke sent the two of them hurling into the deep snow, arms flailing. “That was my horse, you bitch!” Clarke yelled. “Now we will be dead in a few hours!”

Raven was surprised at how much strength the girl had, even she had to struggle to lift her hips an inch off the ground.

So much frustration and anger filled Clarke, and maybe she was finally understanding how Raven felt during the whole journey.

Clarke dropped her raised fists to her side, and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. If it weren’t for Raven’s sharp hearing, she would have confused it for the wind. Clarke stood up.

“If anyone should be sorry it’s me,” Raven replied. “I should have kept my cool.”

Clarke laughed. “Actually we’re freezing. And Winterfell is nowhere near.”

To her left, Raven heard a neigh and rumble. It was dark and the wind was blowing so hard so she tried to make out the source. The only light source was the moon and even its beams weren’t enough to light up five feet ahead of them. “Clarke?”

“Hm?”

“Might have your parents sent a search party?” Her tone was getting more anxious the closer the sound got.

Clarke was confused. “Maybe. But I told them not to go look for me,” she replied. “Even if they are looking for me they wouldn’t know where to go. The North is the last place they would ever think of.”

“And you know this how, exactly?”

“Countless nights at the dinner table hearing them discuss about how ‘uncultured the Norths are’.”

“Ah.”

All of a sudden, the rumbling stopped. This sent Raven into a small state of panic. “Clarke? It’s gone.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?” Clarke shrugged.

“Not if we don’t know where it is!” Raven whisper-shouted. “I swear, by the old gods and the new, that I will kill whoever is messing with us.”

Without warning, a white horse crashed into her and sent the two girls falling into the snow for a second time. The crash made Clarke see stars, and Raven no better. The duo were groaning and clutching at their head, trying to assuage the throbbing pain.

“Oh by Aerys’ balls, first the horse now these two?” a feminine voice asked. Clarke squinted to see a shiny sword being held at her throat. Clarke felt the snow beside her dip. “Huh, southrons. Out here? Who would have thought?” Then, she felt a hand grip her arm and another snake around her waist. “It’s off to Winterfell with you two, then.”

“Oof!” Clarke responded as she was thrown on a horse. Through her blurred eyesight, she saw Raven being picked up and thrown over another horse.

“Ugh…” she could hear Raven groan from behind her.

The stranger returned to Clarke’s line of sight and climbed onto the saddle in front of Clarke, giving her a wonderful view. “Hush, southerner,” she commanded over her shoulder. “Hiya!”

—— x —— 

The first thing Clarke saw when she opened her eyes were the black banners bearing the sigil of a white tree with a sword in its middle, adorning the cobblestone walls. Then, she felt the soft furs tickle her skin. Then the comfortable warmth. And finally, the realization that she was merely wearing a linen wrap around her chest.

Clarke immediately pulled the furs closer to her chest, making her less exposed in case anyone walks in. She propped herself up on her elbows just to have a throbbing pain hit her head. “Oh, by the gods…” she groaned.

As if on cue, the wooden door across the room flew open, introducing a brunette dressed in a white tunic and breeches. In her hands, she was carrying a bowl filled with some sort of milky liquid. She sat down on Clarke’s bed as she put forward the bowl. “Drink,” she said.

Clarke didn’t have a choice. Her head was throbbing, some parts of her body were still cold, and she could barely mumble anything coherent. She felt a hand on the back of her head tipping it forward to the bowl. The bowl met her dried lips as she felt the cold substance go down her throat.

The bowl emptied itself into Clarke’s system, and she felt drowsiness trickle in little by little. Her eyes began to droop as she effortlessly fell back onto the bed.

—— x —— 

Clarke woke up in the same setting she did before, but this time she felt no pain whatsoever and she found herself dressed in a simple blue linen robe. And in the corner of the dimly candle-lit room, she met the same woman that rescued her and Raven from the icy wasteland. Clarke could barely see her face, but she could see that she was sharpening a sword that was placed delicately on her lap.

The stranger cleared her throat. “Good to see that you are finally awake,” she said in the dark. “Who are you?”

When Clarke realized that the stranger had asked her a question, she shook her head and said, “Lady Clarke of House Griffin.”

The chair the woman was sitting on creaked as she leaned forward. “You’re a noble?”

Clarke gave the slightest of nods. “Yes.” Clarke felt comforted yet scared to be there. Sure there was some sort of civilization there but who knows what these people might do? After all, she has never been to the North.

In the dark, Clarke could see the woman stand up. She sheathed the sword and sauntered over to Clarke’s bed. Clarke could see intricate braids on the sides of her head. “A warm welcome from House Woods,” she said in a hushed tone. “If you and your… friend… would be so kind to grace us with your presence in the great hall, that would be most appreciated.” And with that, she opened the wooden door and left.

Clarke groaned as she threw her legs to the side of the bed, trying to sit up. Her back felt sore from god-knows-what, and it wasn’t the good kind of pain. It was, however, mild enough to allow her to walk.

The stone floors felt cold against her feet and there were no slippers or sandals to cover her soles. As she walked towards the door, Clarke pulled the robe closer together, and tied it together to prevent from anyone seeing her naked self.

However, a white fur cloak resting on a chair beside the door. Thinking that it was meant for her, Clarke swung the cloak over her shoulders. She felt warmer already.

With a loud groan, the door opened, showing her an expansive hallway. To her left there were doors identical to the one her room had. And after those three doors, a corridor that turns left. The hallway was well-lit compared to her room.

Clarke continued walking to the end of the hallway, and saw that three paths branched out: one to her left, in the middle and to her right.. “Oh by the gods…” she muttered.

To her right, she heard the clacking of boots against the stone. The sound grew nearer and nearer, and suddenly a woman dressed in the same white tunic and breeches Clarke saw earlier bumped into her. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “It’s wonderful seeing you here. Were you making your way to the hall?”

Clarke’s throat when draw when she saw her. The woman was a beauty. Graced with a face the Mother would envy and charm that the Stranger could not resist. She had beautiful brown hair that cascaded down one shoulder, mesmerizing green eyes, an admirable posture and her well-hugged assets. Not wanting to seem like a fool, Clarke quickly regained her bearings and replied, “Yes.”

The woman smiled. “Ah, well, I was on my way there myself. Would you like an escort, Lady…?” she trailed off.

“Clarke,” she answered. “Of House Griffin.”

The expression on the woman’s face changed from a charming smile to a curious quirk of her eyebrow. “I knew you were a noble when I rescued you."

Clarke raised an eyebrow.

“Oh where are my manners? You must be starving!” the woman scolded herself. She extended an arm out for Clarke to hold. “Would you like to go to dinner with me, Lady Griffin?” she offered with an attractive everything. 

Clarke blushed at such sweet gesture and grabbed her arm. “It would be my pleasure, Lady…?”

As they walked down the middle hallway, the woman replied, “You can just call me Lexa.”

“Lexa.”

On the way there, they made smalltalk. Family, recreation, dreams. As they neared the hall, they bonded. Clarke learned that Lexa lost her parents at a very young age, and was then raised by her uncle.

Lexa, too, learned something. She learned that Clarke actually came to the North to be free of her parents and the people back home. Clarke was slightly reticent about the whole matter. Lexa understood, however. Maybe it was something Clarke wasn’t ready to discuss. “Lady Griffin…”

“Please,” Clarke interrupted. “Call me Clarke.”

“Clarke,” she repeated. Clarke had to be honest, she liked the sound of her name coming from Lexa. “If I may ask, when I rescued you, you were nowhere near the Kingsroad. Did you intend not to use the Kingsroad or…?"

Ah, yes. Clarke recalled the moment when the snowstorm kicked in. Thick and bitterly cold clouds of white blurred Clarke and Raven’s lines of sight, and turned their bones into ice. Even with the dense group of trees that stood to prevent them from veering off the path, they still went off course anyway. “A storm hit and we were unprepared,” she began. “There wasn’t any form of shelter within two miles. I assumed that, despite the storm, Winterfell was close.”

“But it wasn't.”

“It wasn’t.” Clarke chuckled. “But where did you find me, Lexa?”

Lexa took a deep breath before answering. “Near Moat Cailin and White Harbor.”

“But nowhere near the Kingsroad,” Clarke muttered under her breath.

“Fortunately, no.”

Lexa’s response got Clarke confused. “I’m sorry?”

That smile Clarke found endearing returned to Lexa’s face. “Thank the gods you weren’t on the Kingsroad, or else I wouldn’t have met you."

Those words made Clarke’s stomach flutter and heart melt.

They talked and talked, until a guard dressed clad in black leather came running to Lexa. “There’s a… scouts… Azgeda…” he panted.

Lexa put a free hand on his shoulder to calm him and ordered him to wake the watch towers. With that, he ran the opposite direction.

Clarke felt Lexa pull away her arm reluctantly, and found herself immediately missing the warmth. A dispirited look was etched on Lexa’s angular face. 

“Lady— Clarke,” Lexa corrected herself. “It seems that duty calls. Though we will be separated, we shall meet again in the great hall.”

“That would be wonderful.”

Lexa bowed with respect and presence of mind. Such gesture just went to show Clarke how courteous and gallant Lexa was. Clarke’s heart melted. “Goodbye for now… Clarke.” Then off she ran after the guard.

Clarke stood in front of the enormous ornate double wooden doors that lead to the great hall. From the outside, she could hear men and women alike sing songs, laugh and cheer very heartily. Clarke sighed and thought about the dinners she would usually have back at home. Not one night at the dinner table would come close to the one Clarke was about to have. Sure, she felt her parents were nice and loving and all that, but she felt that something was missing.

“Boo!”

Clarke jumped at the sound. “Seven hells, Raven!” she chided. “What have I ever done to you?” Though it was good to see a familiar face in a foreign place, Clarke was not looking for that kind of greeting.

Raven only let out an exuberant laugh. “Good to see you too, princess,” she smiled. “And what are you wearing?"

“Clothes, Raven,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And I told you never to call me that.”

“Well, I don’t care.”

Of course Raven wouldn’t care. Typical Raven. Clarke wasn’t surprised. “Well, what are you wearing?” Clarke gestured at Raven’s linen tunic and breeches.

“This?” she gestured at her white linen tunic, breeches and red trimmed fur cloak. It seemed that Winterfell wasn’t short of any tunics or breeches. “I found myself half naked in a room, and these were the only clothes in the room. Don’t I look great?”

Clarke rolled her eyes at her friend’s antics. 

“So,” Raven started, “did you spot anyone to your liking, yet?” Clarke rolled her eyes at the question. Raven would always be one to poke around with her love life.

“Maybe.” Clarke was nowhere close to giving in. Not in a million years. Things like these should be fought for… or traded for. “What about you?”

Raven waved her hand in the air as if she were dismissing Clarke's question. “That question should be saved for another time. Shall we go inside?” she gestured to the doors. Of course Raven wouldn’t answer. Typical Raven.

Clarke nodded. And of course, being the ‘gentlewoman' Raven was, she heaved the door to make way for Clarke. Typical Raven. As the door opened bit by bit, the laughing and singing got louder. It sounded like people were having fun in there, but Clarke wasn’t planning on getting drunk that night. However, Raven seemed like she sure was. She was rubbed her hands together in mischief. If that wasn’t confirmation enough, Clarke wouldn’t know what was.

Peering into the hall, Clarke saw the eight rows of trestle tables with all kinds of food stacked on one another. And by those tables, people. Some red-faced from the ale, some chanting poems, some shaking with laughter. The cobblestone walls, adorned with the same black banners Clarke saw when she woke up, reflected the light coming from the countless candles in the hall. Men and women were either busy shoving their faces into their plates, or downing ales pint after pint.

And at the end of the hall was a stage that accommodated a long table with five wooden chairs. However, only four people were there. Walking into the hall, Clarke studied each and every one of the four. The one at the very left was a bulky, burly man sporting a long beard and intricate braids on the side of his head. Judging by how he occasionally quirks his upper lip, Clarke could tell that he was enjoying the merriment going on in front of him.

To his right was a woman, and she, too, wore braids. Her angular face was solemn and her arms were crossed in front of her chest. Occasionally she would exchange a few words with the man to her right. Clarke shifted her attention to the empty seat in the middle. She only wondered who it was waiting for.

Third, a bald man. He looked nothing but worried and bored despite the festivities going on before him. From where Clarke was standing, she could see what seemed like tattoos on his head.

And finally, a black woman. Unlike the others, she was pacing. Maybe, just like the bald man, she was worried. Anxious, even. Clarke saw a glint of light reflect from what could only be a sword that was sheathed by the woman’s side. 

“Oh, it’s you again,” a familiar voice greeted. “And I see your friend is with you. Fancy seeing you here."

Clarke turned to face the voice, only to see the sword-wielding stranger that was in her room smiling at Raven. “And to you,” Raven replied shyly. Clarke never saw Raven like this. Typical Raven would be a prick, a tad bit invasive and up to no good. But then? She was a flushed mess.

“Shall we?” the stranger motioned to an empty part of a table.

“We shall,” Raven replied.

Clarke wasn’t going to lie, the stranger was charming. She wasn’t as charming at Lexa, but still. Clarke understood why Raven wasn’t like herself. Clarke wasn’t like herself when she was around Lexa.

Lexa.

As the three women sat down, with Clarke beside Raven and the stranger in front of her, Clarke started scanning the crowd. In an ocean full of drunk and hungry men and women, it was hard to find her. At first, Clarke was a little bit disappointed, but she told herself to give Lexa some time. Lexa would be there.

Two minutes into the search, Clarke felt her stomach rumble. She was so caught up in looking for Lexa she forgot to feed herself. And so, Clarke reached for the pies, poured herself some stew, then water into her cup from a nearby flagon. Raven and the stranger had already done so for themselves, and were already in the middle of what looked to be a nice conversation.

Without hesitating, Clarke started munching away the food in front of her. Occasionally, she had to remind herself to not lose control. After all, she still is a lady. The pies tasted better than they did in the south. (Or maybe she was just really hungry). The stew felt warm in her throat and stomach, but the water splashed the warmth away as Clarke emptied her cup. Clarke felt sated and renewed. She wasn’t feeling hungry or cold anymore. Just… warm.

As Clarke pushed her plate slightly away from her, she heard the creaking of a door that came from the far end of the hall. Everyone turned their heads to look at the stage. Was the missing one among the five finally there? She spotted a brunette walk to the chair, but didn’t get a good look at her face.

“Rise for your Lady,” a deep voice boomed across the hall, replacing the laughter and music. Everyone rose in a solemn and uniform manner. Clarke could sense respect coming off from each and every one of them. Whoever the person was, she must be really important.

Not wanting to be seen as rude, Clarke stood up along with everyone else. But she was not prepared for what she was about to see.

Lexa. On the stage. Occupying the empty seat in the middle.

Except, she wasn’t just dressed in the linen tunic and breeches Clarke saw her in earlier. She had a black vest on, and a black fur cloak draped around her shoulders. She had her head raised up high with dignity as she slowly scanned the crowd. A smile started to form on her face as she took in the vast majority standing before her. And a wider smile formed itself as her eyes finally met Clarke’s. Clarke returned the smile.

Lexa swung a tankard off the table as she stood. After she stood, so did the people beside her. “Azgeda is no longer a threat to us,” she began, her voice loud and confident. “Tonight, we shall celebrate our victory. But victory does not stand on the back of sacrifice. Eat, and drink, in the memory of our brothers and sisters who have fallen. May we meet again.”

“May we meet again,” everyone echoed.

Lexa took a swig from her tankard, and raised it high in the air. “Let us celebrate!”

People, too, took their cups and raised them into the air with a loud cheer, and sat down as they began drinking again. Clarke, however, didn’t. Raven already finished an entire flagon of ale, and the stranger was trying to keep her grounded. Clarke could see Raven’s eyes swim in her skull, but couldn’t put together what Raven was trying to say.

“Prih - hic - vuhh prih,” she muttered, looking directly at the stranger.

The stranger rushed over to Raven before she fell out of her seat. “I’ll take her to her room,” she offered as she looped Raven’s right arm around her neck. Clarke figured that she couldn’t really help Raven, so she decided to stay a little bit longer in the hall.

Clarke looked up at a black banner that was hung high on the wall. The white tree, neatly stitched, in the middle of the banner held a black sword in the middle. Clarke began thinking aloud. “House Askan? Birch? Silas?”

“Surely you have heard of House Woods?”

Clarke turned her head to face the voice so quick, she nearly hurt her neck while doing so. “L-Lexa,” Clarke stuttered.

“Clarke,” Lexa replied, nodding. “How was dinner?”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Good, good,” she replied, nervousness coating her tone. “And you?”

“If I were honest,” she started, “it would have been better if I got to sit next to you.” Lexa winked. And Clarke could feel her heart beat a million times per second. Clarke knew that Lexa was charming, but by the gods that was just straight up teasing. She could even feel a pool of warmth down there. “Walk with me again?” she offered an arm.

Clarke willingly held Lexa’s arm as they walked out of the hall, leaving behind the passed out population. They walked together in a comfortable silence, but Clarke couldn’t help but speak up. “So,” she started.

“So.”

“Lady Lexa of House Woods?” Clarke questioned teasingly. Clarke could see Lexa tense at the question. She immediately wrapped one of Lexa’s hands with hers. “What’s wrong?”

Lexa stared at Clarke’s hand, surprised at the gesture. “Nothing,” she replied, nonchalant. “It’s just… I didn’t want you finding out this way. I should have told you myself earlier instead of keeping it from you. I’m sor—“

“Hey, it’s alright. Really,” Clarke responded with compassion. “This doesn’t change how I think of you.” Lexa looked up and met Clarke’s blue eyes. She could see the understanding in them. And slowly but surely, Lexa relaxed her shoulders and expression. Maybe Clarke did care, but she couldn’t risk it just yet.

“And how do you think of me, Clarke?”

Clarke hesitated before answering. “Well, I’ve only known you for less than a day but, I know that you care for your warriors,” she said softly. “And in my humble opinion, I-I think you’re very… easy on the eyes.” By the time she said that, a small blush crept onto her face. She did not dare to meet Lexa’s green eyes.

Lexa was nothing short of surprised when she heard those words leave Clarke’s mouth, but she quickly regained her bearings as she threw a flattering remark at Clarke’s way. “Hm,” Lexa took a moment to think. “You came all the way to the North for me, maybe I should go south on you.”

What was once a small blush became full-fledged red-tinted cheeks. Clarke was utterly taken aback by Lexa’s words. At that moment, she could do nothing but stare into Lexa’s eyes with an expression of stupefaction etched onto her face. (Which was quite funny because Clarke couldn’t meet Lexa’s gaze when she commented on Lexa’s appearance). Clarke took a moment to regain the ability to speak again. “Well… that certainly was… er…”

Then it was Lexa’s turn to look away. “Inappropriate, I know,” she said remorsefully. “Forgive me, Clarke, I shouldn’t have—“

“I was going to say better than mine,” Clarke interjected. She gave Lexa a small smile, and Lexa returned one. And Clarke wasn’t going to lie, Lexa’s smile made Clarke warmer than she already was. A comfortable silence befell the two, and they could only gaze at each other. They just stood there. In the snowfield of a courtyard. Looking into each other’s eyes.

Wow.

That would have probably went on for decades if it weren’t for the shrill howl of a wolf somewhere in the distance. Lexa knew what that meant. “Ah, the witching hour,” she muttered under her breath. “It seems that midnight has come upon us, Clarke. May I take you to your room?” She offered her arm for the third time that night.

Without hesitating, Clarke accepted Lexa’s arm. Together, they made their way from the snow-covered courtyard back to the great keep.


	2. Chapter 2

After Lexa escorted Clarke back to her room, she made her way back to hers. Whilst walking, Lexa couldn’t help but think about Clarke. She thought about how she rescued her from the snowstorm, and how dangerous Lexa could be for her. A thousand times, Lexa reminded herself. A thousand times she told herself that love is weakness. Costia was proof of that. And ever since, Lexa couldn’t afford to get hurt again. 

When she opened the door to her room, she saw four figures seated around a table. “‘Azgeda is no longer a threat to us’? Why did she have to say that? Just wait until the men spot an entire legion of Azgedan warriors,” the bald man at the head of the table ranted.

The woman with braids sighed. “She did what she had to do, Titus. She knows her men are tired and she wanted them to have a life other than fighting.”

Titus slammed his fists against the table. “Nothing!” he shouted. “All these years of mentoring and she has learned nothing!” His face was contorted in frustration.

“Well why don’t we just ask what Lexa thinks,” a burly man replied. “I mean she is standing right there.” He jerked his head in Lexa’s direction. Everyone fixed their gaze on Lexa.

That time, it was Lexa’s turn to sigh. But she wasn’t surprised, though. Fights like these would happen almost every night. Titus would disagree with what Lexa had said or done, Anya or Gustus would be the one to defend her, and Indra would be the bucket of water to this raging fire. Although that night, Indra didn’t seem too involved.

“Yes, I do understand that Azgeda is still a threat to us,” Lexa began, “but the men are tired and we have lost more than we are training. You can only understand so much of what they have to go through.”

Titus retracted his shoulders in feigned respect. “They are soldiers, Lexa,” he stated bitterly. “They were trained to kill and do so with indifference, Lexa, you know this!”

Anya covered her face with a hand. “Of course she knows this, Titus, it’s the only thing you know how to teach her,” she retorted.

“What did you say?” Titus asked, at the point of tipping over.

“You heard me, eunuch,” she challenged with a smirk.

Titus slammed his fists against the table for the second time that night. He did it so hard, he toppled Gustus’ tankard over the side of the table. “Lexa, the council has no need of this woman,” he shouted. “Get her out of here!”

Lexa sauntered over to the table with crossed arms, losing patience by the minute. “Titus, enough,” she said with whatever patience she had left. “I do things for a reason. Justified reasons. If you can not handle that, then I suggest you leave.” She gestured towards the door. It was late and Lexa was a tad bit tipsy. So she walked over to her bed to undress herself, and wrap up this rubbish argument.

“Finally,” Anya muttered under her breath.

She thought that Lexa wouldn’t hear, oh but did she hear that oh so clearly. “Same goes for you, Anya,” she scolded. Lexa ran a hand through her hair. “You know what, it’s late. It’s best if you all leave.” And with that, the four stood up and nodded solemnly. Then they all filed out of the room neatly. Surprisingly, Lexa didn’t hear a comment from Titus as he left the room.

However, Anya came back inside the room.

“Good job handling him, cousin,” she remarked as she reached for her tankard.

Lexa exhaled in an attempt to calm herself. “These kinds of things happen very often, Anya. I’m used to it,” she replied as she took off her fur cloak.

Anya put her tankard down after drained it empty of ale. “Yes, but tonight he was much harder to control. Indra didn’t even wanted to try calming him down,” she mentioned. “But if you have your own reasons of doing what you do, then you do know that he has his own reasons of doing what he does. Right?”

“Yes, I know that full well, Anya,” she replied, nonchalant, as she began unlacing her boots.

“Good. Because he saw you with that southron woman.”

Lexa’s head shot up. “What?”

“Yes,” Anya responded. “He worries for you, Lexa. You remember what happened with Costia...” Anya walked over to Lexa’s bed and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

As if just poked by a hot brand, Lexa retracted from Anya's touch. “I’ve been down that dark road once, Anya, and I refuse to go through it again,” she said with a firm voice. Lexa stood up from her bed to walk over to the fireplace.

“Look Lexa, I didn’t—"

“Just leave me.”

“Lexa, listen to me.”

“Leave me,” she whispered. Until she finally snapped. “Now!”

Anya was shocked at Lexa’s sudden outburst. She wouldn’t usually get this angry… unless a nerve was hit. Anya wasn’t going to lie, maybe it was her fault. She should have stopped poking and prodding when Lexa told her to. Knowing better, Anya left the room without saying another word.

To her side, Lexa heard the wooden door close. She stared into the open fire and felt the warmth that radiated from it. She relished in the heat, trying to get as warm as possible. Even with the cloak that hung over her shoulders, the walk in the snow still made her feel cold.

Cold without Clarke, that is.

Lexa thought long and hard about what Anya had said. What if Lexa was restarting the vicious cycle again? Once was enough for her. Another time would be the death of her.

She remembered that period where she was so devastated by Costia’s death that she would not even leave her room for an entire moon’s turn. She shut everyone out. The handmaidens, Anya, Titus. Things were just so bad that house Woods plummeted to a state of near-collapse. The small folk were starving, the soldiers were being picked off one by one by Azgedans. Conditions drove the council to take over until Lexa fully reeled back from Costia’s death.

But Lexa hasn’t felt her heart flutter or feel her palms get sweaty for a very long time. Torturous, she knew. But, by the gods, was it beautiful. To feel again? Wondrous. For so long she has drove herself to not care or get emotionally attached to anything. But maybe Clarke of House Griffin was changing everything for her.

Lexa let out a yawn, and could feel drowsiness seep into her vision. So she walked over to her bed, laid down on the soft furs, and slipped into oblivion.

——— x ——— 

Just as the first few rays of sunshine touched the walls of Winterfell, Clarke woke up to the sound of cutlery clinking against metal. She wondered where the sound was coming from until she saw a handmaiden placing a tray on her bedside table. “For you, Lady Griffin,” she said meekly.

Clarke swung her legs over the bed. “From who?” she enquired.

“Lady Woods,” she replied. “Do you need me to do anything else, Lady Griffin?”

“No,” Clarke answered, still wondering why Lexa would send a tray of food over to her room. “Thank you for delivering this.”

With a nod, the handmaiden left Clarke’s room. Clarke pulled her robe closer together as she stood up. She felt the cold surface of the cobblestone floor prickle the soles of her feet. At first, Clarke was surprised by the sensation but then she remembered that this was Winterfell she was staying in. Not King’s Landing where it was warm.

Perched at the upper right-hand side of the tray, a neatly folded card bore Clarke’s name written in elegant cursive. Clarke tentatively reached for the card and opened it.

‘Lady Clarke of House Griffin,

meet me in the courtyard after you have broken your fast.

 

Lexa.’

Clarke ran her fingers over the ink, hardly believing that someone as charming and beautiful as Lexa wished to meet with her. It made her heart palpitate just thinking about it.

Not wasting a minute, Clarke finished her meal and dressed herself in the same clothes she wore last night. Maybe she could ask the handmaidens to put more clothing items in her wardrobe. And quickly, she made her way to the courtyard all from memory.

Clarke had no idea why she was in such a hurry to meet Lexa. She has never been a stickler for perfect timing, even though she was raised in the proper way of a noble. Was she this attracted to Lexa? It’s true that Lexa has a jawline handcrafted by the Smith himself, and allure not even the Maiden could compete against, but Clarke herself did not expect to be this drawn to her.

Once she finally entered the snow-carpeted courtyard, she instantly spotted Lexa’s solemn figure watching a boy spar against a man. “Hold the sword with two hands if you have to, Aden!” she heard Lexa advise one of the boys. “The battlefield is no place for a show.”

Clarke saw a blonde boy swing his sword like an expert. As if he has been sword fighting for years. But judging by his looks, Clarke thought he is no older than 14. Which made Clarke wonder: why were kids being trained to fight? “Use your stature to dodge his strikes, Aden!” Lexa continued. 

Clarke cleared her throat.

Almost immediately, Lexa turned. “Clarke!” she greeted, surprised.

Clarke chuckled. “Are you sure it isn’t ‘Lady Clarke of House Griffin?’”

Lexa smiled. “I trust you got the card.”

“Of course. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here,” Clarke replied jokingly. “What ever do you need me for at this hour Lexa?”

Lexa turned back to face the boy who was still sword fighting the man. “Aden.”

The boy halted his movements immediately. “Yes?”

“Training dismissed. Go train with the other Nightbloods,” Lexa commanded with a firm tone. And so, Aden nodded and walked the other direction. Lexa turned to face Clarke once more. “As the lady of this humble establishment, it is my duty to show you, our honored and esteemed guest, around Winterfell,” she said as she offered an arm for Clarke to hold. “Do you accept?”

Lexa’s face had nothing but pure seductiveness written all over it, and it made Clarke’s heart hammer like crazy. And of course Clarke accepted. It wasn’t even something Clarke thought about anymore; she just did it involuntarily. “I accept, Lady Woods,” Clarke said in response. “Where are we going to first?”

“Let’s start with the godswood, shall we?” Lexa said.

Together, they began walking through the paths of snowy Winterfell. The wind was blowing harder than usual that day, and the weather made Clarke shiver despite the fact that she was wearing a fur cloak and thick leather boots.

Occasionally, Clarke stared in awe at the structures and couldn’t resist asking what each and everyone of them was for. And of course, Lexa happily answered all of her questions. “What’s over there?” Clarke asked excitedly, staring at an ironwood door.

“The crypts,” Lexa answered. “No one goes there but me. And I only go there on… rare occasions.” Lexa wasn’t telling the truth, but she wasn’t lying either. She just didn’t want Clarke to know what’s down there. And Clarke didn’t seem too mind at Lexa’s answer. If it wasn’t her business, then it’s best to keep her head down.

They didn’t stop walking until they saw the first few snow-capped trees of ironwood, ash and oak. The ground was covered in snow, as well as fallen leaves. Clarke never saw a copse of trees this massive or well-tended. The barks were the good kind of stocky, and its leaves were luxuriant and plentiful. Which was strange considering that it was winter. And Clarke couldn’t help but stare in awe.

Lexa noticed the wonder etched on Clarke’s face, and smiled at how endearing she was. “Wait until we get to the heart of the godswood,” Lexa whispered.

Clarke turned her attention away from the trees, and looked curiously at Lexa. “And that’s where the ancient weirwood tree is?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lexa replied. “Do you know much about the weirwood trees, Clarke?”

Clarke bit her lip. “I know what they’re considered sacred to the followers of the old gods, and that its leaves are blood-red and its wood is bone-white,” she replied. “That’s what I've gathered from the books, anyway.”

“But have you ever seen one in person?” Lexa inquired. "Surely there are weirwood trees in the south still standing?”

“Yes. Once in Casterly Rock. But that was when I was a child,” Clarke replied.

Lexa looked curious. “And that is why you resorted to the books?”

“Yes.”

The two stopped in their tracks. “Well, Lady Clarke of House Griffin,” Lexa started, “consider this the second time you have seen a weirwood tree.”

Behind Lexa’s shoulder, Clarke could see an enormous white tree, branching out its crimson leaves. The tree made her feel small and humble. As if she was nothing but a speck of dust compared to the vast weirwood. Clarke stood there, speechless, as she studied the tree top to bottom. And at the foot of the weirwood, Clarke saw a dark pool of water that mirrored everything with such clarity.

She inched closer to the tree, mouth still agape in veneration. “I didn’t remember it to be this…”

“Majestic?” Lexa finished.

Clarke turned around to face Lexa. And Lexa could still see amazement behind her blue eyes. “Exactly,” she breathed out. “Thank you... for letting me visit the godswood.”

Lexa let out a warm smile. “Of course, Clarke. You are welcome to come here any time.”

“Thank you, Lexa,” Clarke said softly, returning a smile just as warm.

——— x ——— 

After the godswood, they visited the glass garden, the first keep, then finally the broken tower. “What happened to it?” Clarke asked as she stared at the vine-covered walls of the tower.

“Over 140 years ago,” Lexa began, “a lightning strike set the tower ablaze, which caused the top third to collapse inward. And ever since, no one bothered to rebuild it.”

“That’s sad,” Clarke admitted.

Lexa sighed. “It is. Sometimes I wonder what it looked like before the fire."

——— x ——— 

At the end their thorough tour of Winterfell, they ended back at the courtyard. The sun was still high in the sky, but it had little effect on the cold winds. They figured, they still had more time on their hands, but it seemed that Lexa had other things to deal with when the same bald man Clarke saw in the great hall approach Lexa.

“Lexa, you are needed in the great hall,” his low voice whispered.

Lexa didn’t even bother giving the man a glance. “Can’t you see I’m busy, Titus?” she waved off.

“It’s about the Azgedans.”

Lexa halted in her tracks, and finally turned to meet Titus’ tired face. “Alright,” she replied. “I shall be there in a moment.” And with that Titus, bowed and walked in the direction of the great hall.

She turned back to face Clarke, who had an inquisitive look on her face. “Something the matter?” Clarke asked.

Lexa breathed out in dispiritedness. “It seems that house affairs have stolen me from you, Clarke of House Griffin,” Lexa answered in dismay.

Clarke smiled at how polite Lexa was. “Do what you must, Lexa,” Clarke said with understanding. “It’s not easy being the lady of a house.”

Lexa’s heart melted at how empathetic Clarke was. These days, Lexa struggles to find people other than Anya who would understand. “Thank you for the wonderful time, Clarke,” she said as she bowed.

For the thousandth time that day, Clarke’s heart skipped a beat. “Thank you for inviting me, Lexa,” she replied with a smile. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Indeed we should.”

The two were like fools standing in the middle of the courtyard, doing nothing but smiling at the other. This would have went on for years if Anya weren’t there to snap Lexa out of her reverie. Anya didn’t even warn Lexa; she just popped out of nowhere and grabbed Lexa by the arm.

“Enough of that, Lady Heart-eyes,” Anya said as she dragged Lexa to the great hall. “You can have her in your chambers tonight, but right now we have urgent matters to attend to.”

Clarke let out a small giggle at the display, and waved as Lexa was being hauled into the hall. And yet again, Clarke was alone.

Not.

“Clarke!” a familiar voice called out.

A huge smile appeared on Clarke’s face as she heard Raven’s greeting. The blonde turned around to meet a charging Raven with outstretched arms. The two collided in a friendly embrace. “It’s good to see you again,” Clarke said.

“And you,” Raven said back as she interlocked her arm with Clarke’s. “So I saw you with the lady of house Woods. It seemed that you two are… more than just friends.” A smirk appeared on Raven’s face.

Typical Raven was poking and prodding at Clarke’s love life again. Or lack thereof, really. Clarke’s last relationship ended in flames. It wasn’t something that she could talk about without feeling salty. Or worthless. But in all honesty, she felt like she needed to talk about it to someone. It has been a very long time since the last time she spoke about it. And it would be nice to let out all those bottled feelings go.

“Lexa was just being friendly,” Clarke said.

The mentioning of Lexa’s name seemed to intrigue Raven. “‘Lexa,’ huh? First day here and you already know her name, Clarke. I have taught you well.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at Raven’s amusing behavior. “Well what about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“You know… that stranger that escorted you to your room last night.” Now it was Clarke’s turn to poke and prod at Raven’s love life.

“Her name is Octavia,” Raven insisted. “And nothing happened last night.” Clarke laughed at the blush that crept onto Raven’s face.

“Oh, but you wish something had. Don’t you?” Now Clarke could see why Raven loved sticking her nose into her relationships. It was just so much fun to see the usually cocky Raven reduced to a love-struck youth.

Raven pulled her arm away from Clarke’s and looked away. “This conversation is over,” she said with whatever pride she had left.

“It’s not over until I say it is,” Clarke goaded, trying to look Raven in the eye. Raven did nothing but avoided Clarke’s stare the more the girl tried.

“You know, Clarke,” Raven spoke, “did you ever think that maybe we won’t be here forever?”

That caused Clarke to come to a standstill. “What do you mean?” she asked with a quizzical expression.

“I mean that you are bound to face your parents some time,” Raven stated, finally meeting Clarke’s eyes.

Now it was Clarke’s turn to look away. “They wouldn’t look for me here, Raven,” Clarke replied bitterly.

“But they will, at some point in time.”

Clarke thought this through, and, not that she would admit it, Raven had a point. Her parents were rulers of the seven kingdoms, seated up high on the Iron Throne of the Red Keep. Being as sovereign as they were, sending a search party to every stronghold, fortress or town that are sprinkled all over the entire continent would be nothing. They could send ships and armies to look for Clarke. And she would have nowhere to go.

“Then I’ll keep moving."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have i ever told you guys how amazing you all are?

**Author's Note:**

> yeet okay so I just wanna say thank you to everyone who actually took time to read trash that I typed onto my computer :)) i appreciate u. In all seriousness, this has been immeasurably frightening. Thanks again to everyone who read it. kudos to u <3.


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